Ways to Escape the Future
by lovablegeek
Summary: S3 - They're going to have to go home eventually, but in the meantime, there are a few perfectly valid means of escaping the Year that Never Was. Some JackMartha, mostly gen. - One shot


No one quite knew where to go while the Doctor was busy fixing the sick thing the TARDIS had become. They didn't want to stay aboard the Valiant, certainly, but going back into the world just yet seemed somewhat unsettling, when the people on this ship were the only ones who would understand. And being in the TARDIS before it was itself again...

No one wanted that either.

Martha thought it was just as well, because she hadn't had a place to go, not really, for the past year, and she didn't even need to go anywhere to sleep, because she honestly felt like she'd never sleep again. Or maybe she'd wear herself out and sleep forever.

She walked the halls of the Valiant restlessly, pretending it didn't hurt to think of all that had happened here, to her family, to the Doctor, to Jack. It wasn't that different from walking the world last year. It felt much the same.

And it didn't much surprise either of them when she found Jack curled up on a cot in one of the crew bunks, determined to really sleep for the first time in a year, and she closed the door behind her and went to curl up with him.

The TARDIS was fixed. People went home. The Doctor's first trip was to burn the Master's body. Before the second, he came to Martha and Jack, smiling hopefully. "It occurs to me I ought to take the TARDIS out for a test drive, be sure everything's in working order."

He paused, like he was waiting for an answer, but neither Jack nor Martha knew what answer to give, so after a minute he gave up waiting and asked, "Want to come?"

* * *

Martha had gotten good at putting on a brave face. At pretending nothing that happened in the last year left scars, because it didn't really happen. At being Martha Jones, the woman who walked the earth, instead of just some little girl who couldn't sleep half the time because there might be monsters lurking in the dark.

Where people could see her, she was strong, unshakable, the person who saved the world with the words from her mouth.

And then the Doctor took them to a market on a planet Martha couldn't pronounce the name of, and the smell of some alien meat over a fire brought back the memory of burnt human flesh in the rubble of New York. Her hands started to shake.

When they got back to the TARDIS, Martha walked straight to the nearest bathroom, forcing herself not to rush. The second she got there, she locked the door behind her, dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, and vomited until there was nothing left in her stomach. She still felt sick, and wound up on the floor with her back against the wall, sobbing and hating herself for it.

A soft knock at the door startled her enough that she jumped a little, cracking her head against the wall.

"Martha?" Jack called through the door.

Wincing in pain, Martha wiped the tears from her cheeks and got to her feet to open the door. Though she knew her eyes were still red, her face wet and her nose running a little, Jack had the good grace not to mention it.

* * *

Martha wouldn't have thought a bullet would have much effect on this creature - like an overgrown toad with hulking layers of muscle and wicked teeth that jutted up from its lower jaw like a bulldog's, it seemed like a bullet wound would barely scratch its hide. Nevertheless, when Jack fired, it let out a tremendous bellow and released his arm from its jaws, turning quickly to waddle off into the tumble of rocks that were scattered across the mountains around them. Jack hissed in pain, collapsing back against a boulder and cradling his arm to his chest.

Martha frowned. "It just ran away?"

The Doctor, at her side, snorted a little. "Big sissy."

"Well it was just _shot_..." she pointed out. Most animals she knew of, alien or otherwise, would run off after that.

"Oh, sorry, did you think I meant the Ragusca? I was talking about Jack."

Martha glared at him and rushed down the hill toward Jack, coming to a skidding halt a few feet from him, loose rocks slipping under her feet and nearly sending her pitching over. Jack pushed himself away from the rock he'd been leaning against and reached out to catch her with his uninjured arm, but she waved him off. "I'm fine. Let me see your arm."

Jack raised his eyebrows at her, grinning that "you're not serious, are you?" grin of his. "I'll be fine."

"You should at least let me disinfect it."

He chuckled softly, like he thought she was joking. "It'll be gone in about twenty minutes. Either you're ignoring a fundamental part of our relationship, or you're just not paying attention."

She glanced to his arm, his coat sleeve in bloody tatters over torn flesh, and back up to his face. Martha held out her hand, palm up, expression commanding and no-nonsense. Jack eyed her a moment longer, as if trying to gauge her seriousness, and then rolled his eyes and held out his arm to her, bemused smile unwavering.

* * *

Martha wasn't sure if the Doctor slept, really. In all the time she spent with him, he was always wide awake and energetic when she went to bed, and disgustingly awake when she got up. Jack, however, definitely did. Immortal he might be, but he was definitely human, at least enough that he slept like a normal person.

That didn't stop him from apparently making an effort to stay awake until she fell asleep, a habit she couldn't help but find both amusing and endearing. And she was going to miss this, falling asleep with her head on his chest, his steady, unfaltering heartbeat in her ear as he played with her hair or traced patterns on the bare skin of her back.

Even if there were those times she woke up in the middle of the night and had to convince herself his heartbeat sounded nothing like the bleeding drums.

Even if sometimes she woke up with a gasp and for a second wasn't sure if hse was in bed on the TARDIS with Jack, or lying in a pit full of cooling bodies and scared out of her mind that if she moved, even a fraction of an inch, the Toclaphane would find her.

Maybe especially because of those things.

Because she knew before long she would be alone in the bed. Because she knew the nightmares would still be there, but there would be no one to wake up when she started awake, and tell her in whispers it was alright, it never happened, and wouldn't ever. It was reassuring, even when she could hear the faint, nearly inperceptible falter of confidence in his voice.

So for now, she was more than content to fall asleep curled against Jack as he played with her hair and the TARDIS hummed gently in the background.

* * *

Martha had been thinking, and while she'd mostly come to a decision, there were those things that made her waver. Things like the Doctor's grin whenever he managed to surprise her, yet again. Like the hum of the TARDIS, which had gotten so familiar the world seemed empty without it.

Things like this place, this planet all of ice and snow, and towering abstract statues naturally formed by tiny crystals of ice condensing in the freezing night. As the sun rose, it exploded in shimmering silver light reflecting off every surface. Martha gasped in surprise and delight. Jack, at her side, grinned, and the Doctor lit up just as much as the sparkling world around them.

Only minutes later, the crystalline towers of ice started to melt, beginning a slow, graceful collapse occasionally punctuated by a sudden break and whispering showers of ice shards. Martha felt like her heart might have stopped in her chest from the sheer, aching beauty of it.

These were the things that made her doubt her decision, the things that reminded her how vast and wild and terrifying and gorgeous the universe was, how she could travel with the Doctor all her life and never grow tired of it - after all, he never did.

But eventually he had to ask the question - he always did - and Martha knew what answer she had to give. "So. Where to next?"

Jack and Martha exchanged a look across the console room. Martha hesitated a moment before saying, "London," at the same moment Jack said, "Cardiff."

The Doctor looked surprised, and Martha hadn't really planned the words to explain it to him, not yet. Thankfully, Jack answered the unspoken question for her, hands in the pockets of his greatcoat, meeting the Doctor's eyes squarely. "We need to see the world again, Doctor. The way it should be." 


End file.
